Adjustments
by vcg73
Summary: A missing scene to "Theatricality", after Finn gets the big move-in announcement but before the whole redecorating fiasco.


"So, uh . . ." Finn paused, long arms wrapped around his drawn up legs as he sat on Kurt's small sofa and tried to think up a non-volatile topic of conversation. He was still feeling angry and hurt that his mother had not bothered to give him any advance warning before moving them both into the Hummel home, but that wasn't Kurt's fault. Not really, though he did kind of hate the fact that Kurt had obviously known what was coming while he had been left clueless.

Kurt looked up from the book he was reading. He had changed out of the formal-looking '50's retro suit he had been wearing earlier and into a pair of loose-fitting black warm-up pants and a deep purple hoodie with some kind of geometric design sprinkled over the cloth. Finn strongly suspected that Kurt had deliberately dressed down in an effort to make him more comfortable. After all, it wasn't like he had had any chance to pack and move his own clothing or anything before he was shoved headfirst into this new _family_.

Okay, that was way bitter.

Kurt offered him a tentative smile. "Yes?"

"How come you got such a little bed?" Finn asked, blurting out the first thing that popped into his mind. It was a dumb question and he wanted to call it back the instant he said it.

The other boy unfolded from his cross-legged seat in the middle of the mattress and stood, looking down at the twin-sized bed with a surprised expression. "I guess it is kind of small," he admitted. "I never really gave it much thought."

"Sorry," Finn said quickly. "I didn't mean that there was anything wrong with it or anything. Guess because of the way you dress and your car and everything, I sort of assumed everything you owned would be kind of . . ."

"Ostentatious?" he supplied with a smile. Seeming to realize that Finn did not know what he meant, he tried again, "Big and fancy?"

Finn nodded. "Yeah, I guess. Your bed is even smaller than mine and, like I said, my room is basically a closet. I mean my _old_ room."

Kurt sighed at his tone. "I really am sorry that we sprung all this on you, Finn. I guess I assumed you sort of knew it was coming. I mean, I told you way back when they first started dating that I thought they'd rush to move in together and that we'd probably end up sharing this room one day. Remember?"

"Yeah, but I thought we'd have more time. And I thought Mom would at least tell me in private before she just did it."

Moving to sit next to him on the sofa, Kurt perched daintily on the very edge of the cushion, his arms held out poker-straight, hands clenched. He seemed determined not to actually touch Finn and Finn was suddenly, distinctly reminded of the time they had been assigned to work on a ballad together. Kurt had acted the same way then. Shy, careful . . . hopeful. It made Finn a little uncomfortable, just as it had then, fearing that Kurt was looking for more than he could give back, but he forced himself to relax. After all, that ballad assignment had led to the first moments of real friendship that he and Kurt had shared. Not counting football, which had been more of an exchange of favors than an overture of friendship.

"She shouldn't have done that," Kurt said gently, reaching out to carefully pat his arm before shrinking back in on himself again. "I shouldn't have done that. I should have made sure that you had fair warning as soon as Dad told me."

"Not your fault," he said honestly.

Kurt paused for a few seconds, then offered, "I cocoon."

Confused, Finn frowned at him.

"The bed," Kurt elaborated. "You asked why it's so small. It's because I'm not a sprawler. I go to sleep just like anybody else, usually curled up on one side, but by morning I'm always wound up in the blankets and tucked into the very center of the bed. Like a worm in a cocoon. I've been doing it since I was really small and Dad knows it because I used to sneak into his bed a lot, you know, after my mom died. He'd wake up pushed to the very edge with no blankets because I'd stolen them all in the night. Guess he figured there wasn't much point in buying me a bigger bed frame if I wasn't going to use the extra space."

Finn smiled, feeling a little more at home as he listened to Kurt freely sharing what was obviously an embarrassing fact about himself. "Guess that's why you're such a butterfly once you get out of the cocoon," he joked, surprising a laugh from his new roommate. Biting his lip, Finn looked around the large room. "Did . . . did anybody happen to tell you where I'm supposed to sleep tonight? My own bed isn't here yet."

"Oh!" Kurt said, eyes wide. He theatrically smacked himself upside the head and bounced up, crossing the room to pull out two large boxes and a smaller one. "Air mattresses, they're really comfortable and I've got a pump right here to blow them up with. Your own stuff will be here tomorrow, but this should be okay for one night. Unless you'd rather sleep on the couch upstairs, but these really are good, I promise. They're queen-sized and I already brought down fresh sheets and blankets for them and everything."

He was so fluttery and anxious to please that it made Finn feel bad for sulking throughout the evening. "That's cool, I used to use one of those when I crashed at Puck's house sometimes."

Kurt's nose wrinkled. "Not sure I'd trust the cleanliness of any linens belonging to Puck."

Finn laughed. "His mom does the laundry. It was all good."

Rising from his seat, he helped the smaller boy inflate and dress the two plump air beds and settle them against the far wall where they would not shift in place when he moved.

"Sooo," he drawled, wracking his mind for another topic. "What kind of games do you like?"

Kurt gave him a blank stare.

"Y'know, games? Your dad said you guys had game night or something. Was he just kidding?" They had hung out together some, but he still did not know Burt Hummel well enough to always be able to tell when the man was joking. Mostly because he did not seem to do a lot of it. Burt was a cool dude and all, but kind of serious.

Kurt's confused expression cleared and he smiled. "Oh, no he wasn't kidding. We've been doing that every week since I was thirteen. I thought it was seriously lame at first, but Dad said he didn't want us growing apart now that I was a teenager. Said too many parents didn't know squat about their kids once they hit puberty and he wasn't going to let that happen to us. In case you haven't noticed, my dad and I don't have a whole lot in common, but that was one thing that could give us equal footing and something to do together. Your mom has joined us for a couple and I guess she was hoping you might want in, too."

"Do you mind that?" Finn asked curiously. He was aware that Kurt had had some adjustment problems with him and Burt becoming friends, though nobody had ever given him any details. As usual. He did not want to cause any more friction by taking away something that Kurt considered a special father-son bonding ritual.

To his credit, Kurt considered the question before deciding. "I don't mind. It might be fun to be able to play things like Pictionary, games that require four people. Dad and I mostly stuck to Monopoly, Scrabble and card games. Or stuff we made up ourselves." Kurt grinned at that. "Those are actually more fun. Dad cheats too much at regular board games."

Finn laughed. "Seriously?"

"Oh, yeah. I find it highly suspicious that whenever he's the banker in Monopoly, he always wins. And he makes up his own words for Scrabble. When I call him on it, he claims that they're real words but the dictionary didn't have room for them and didn't include them in the volume we have." Kurt laughed, blue-green eyes shining with affection.

Settling his long body on the newly made-up air bed, Finn bounced a little and decided that it really was nice and comfortable. "What about the games you make up? That sounds kind of cool."

"Those are mostly summertime games," Kurt told him, flopping onto his stomach on his own bed and swinging his feet through the air as he talked. "When the weather is hot, we sit out on the front porch and play word games, or trivia games or fun facts."

"Fun facts?" he repeated, finally relaxing as the friendly conversation continued. Kurt was just a regular guy right now, a friend. None of those weird, intense looks or shy gestures that made Finn feel like an intruder in his own skin. He could get to like this arrangement if he could figure out how to make the other boy act like this all the time.

Kurt, unaware of his thoughts, laughed. "Oh, that's a dangerous one. We have to tell one true thing about ourselves, whether it's a memory or an opinion or whatever. It was Dad's way of trying to make sure I didn't keep too many secrets from him, I think. I never tell him really important stuff while we're playing, but it does make it easier to talk to him when I need to, I guess."

"Does he tell you stuff, too?" Finn asked, intrigued. If he and his mother had played this game, maybe she would have felt easier about being honest with him about wanting to move in with Burt.

"Sure," Kurt said immediately. "The problem with that game is, sometimes the fun fact leads to other stuff. I once told him that I didn't get why Duke University was such a bad school and that argument didn't end for three days!"

Finn chuckled. He barely knew Burt and even he had learned that Duke was a sore subject. "Sounds like fun. Maybe you and I can play that one, too. I think I'd like to learn more about you, y'know, if we're going to be sort-of family and all."

"I'd like that," Kurt said quietly. "Do you want to try it now?"

Suddenly, Finn was nervous again. Oh, God, what if Kurt was about to tell him he had a crush on him or something? He strongly suspected it was true, but they had never actually talked about it, and he really did not want to. Like, ever.

"O . . . okay," he stammered. "How does it work? Do I ask a question or do you just blurt something out?"

"I ask you . . ." he paused, chewing his lower lip as he considered his inquiry. "What is your all time favorite TV show, and why? And you have to tell me the truth, even if it's something embarrassing, like Barney. Then, you ask me something. Whatever you want to know."

Finn breathed deeply, relieved. He could handle that. "Okay, well my all time favorite TV show is CHiPs, and I like it because I thought being a motorcycle cop looked really awesome and when I was a kid I thought being one meant you always met hot babes wherever you went, because Ponch and Jon always did."

Kurt laughed brightly. "I don't even know what that show is, but it sounds pretty fun."

"Dude, you've _never_ seen CHiPs?" Finn asked, sitting up. "It's from the 1970s but it's been in reruns for, like, _ever_. I have the DVD set. When I get my stuff, I totally have to make you watch it."

A bit startled by his passion, Kurt held up a hand. "Fine, okay, I'll watch it. But no promises for falling in love with it. Most of the shows I've seen from the '70's are pretty lame."

"Not this one," he promised. "You'll like it."

"Okay, I'll take your word for it. So, do you have a question for me?"

Remembering the game, he lay back down, tucking a pillow behind his head as he studied the ceiling in search of inspiration. He could just repeat Kurt's question back at him, but he wanted to put a little more effort into it than that, just to show that he was trying. "Okay, what first made you a fan of Broadway show songs? I mean, it's kind of a cliché that all gay guys like show-tunes but you don't always match up to the clichés, so I wondered if it was something specific."

Kurt looked a little surprised, and very pleased by Finn's assessment that he was not a walking stereotype. "This will probably surprise you, especially since I'm pretty sure my dad thinks I like them because of Mom, but it was actually Dad who got me interested."

"Seriously? He doesn't seem like the Broadway type. I've never heard him listen to anything but the oldies rock station when we go to games."

"He's ridiculously devoted to John Mellencamp," Kurt sighed, "and it really was my mother who loved Broadway, but I wasn't really interested in any particular genre of music when I was eight. Then Mom died and I started getting nightmares almost every night."

Finn nodded. Kurt acted very casual about it, but he could tell that his friend had trouble speaking about his late mother without becoming emotional. "That's why you wanted to sleep with your dad?"

Drawing a deep breath, Kurt said, "Right. I would wake up crying and go crawl in with him, and he never turned me away. You have to understand that my dad wasn't a really demonstrative person. He's really much better about hugs and stuff now. But when I went to him, and I was so upset, he'd just pull me close and hold me until I felt better, and then he'd sing to me until I fell asleep again."

"Show-tunes?" Finn said doubtfully.

Kurt blushed a little. "Like I said, Mom loved them, so he'd learned a lot of them by default. I guess in the middle of the night, with a kid who was missing his mother, those songs were what made him feel able to connect to me. I mostly remember him singing a song from 'Sweeney Todd' called "Not While I'm Around".

"I don't think I know that one. I never saw the movie."

Kurt looked aghast. "Oh, Finn. If you're going to force me to watch a '70's cop show marathon, I definitely demand equal Sondheim exposure for you."

Reluctantly, he nodded. Fair was fair. "So, about the song?"

Clearing his throat, Kurt gently sang the lyrics and Finn could understand why his father had chosen it. They words were fierce but the melody was soft and lulling. Perfect for a child frightened of a strange new world. Finn began to feel kind of sleepy himself as his friend crooned the song.

Kurt laughed lightly. "Am I putting you to sleep?"

"Kind of. I'm sort of tired after all the excitement today."

"I can't blame you. If you're comfortable, why don't we just call it a night? We can pick this up another time."

Finn nodded. "Sure you don't mind?"

"I'm good," he said, smiling happily. "I'm great. This is going to be so great, Finn. Us being together, like brothers or something."

The 'or something' still worried Finn a little, but he was cool with brothers and if that was what Kurt truly wanted from him, he could be more than happy with that. "Yeah, I think so, too." Rolling onto his side, he smiled. "Night, bro."

Kurt smiled back at him. "Night, Finn. Sweet dreams."

Finn closed his eyes. This would take some getting used to, but today had not ended so badly and maybe tomorrow would turn out to be a really great day.

THE END

The lyrics to "Nothing's Gonna Harm You" in case anyone was curious:

Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around.

Demons are prowling everywhere, nowadays,  
I'll send 'em howling,  
I don't care, I got ways.

No one's gonna hurt you,  
No one's gonna dare.  
Others can desert you,  
Not to worry, whistle, I'll be there.

Demons'll charm you with a smile, for a while,  
But in time...  
Nothing can harm you  
Not while I'm around...

Not to worry, not to worry  
I may not be smart, but I'm not dumb.  
I can do it. Put me to it. Show me something - I can overcome.  
Not to worry, ma'am.

Being close and being clever  
Ain't like being true  
I don't need to,  
I would never hide a thing from you,

Nothin's gonna harm you. Not while I'm around.  
Nothing's gonna harm you, darling  
Not while I'm around.


End file.
